A Nettlesome Situation
by Little Miss Slytherclaw
Summary: Draco comes home from Hogwarts to find that his childhood, enchanted mirror is gone and replaced with a snarky, nettlesome mirror. To be honest, he isn't sure he could last a month with this mirror... who could? It was annoying, and far too honest, and complained too much... and was a little too much like him.


**Hi friends. This is written for:**

 **QLFC, Round Eight**

 **Falmouth Falcons, Seeker**

 **Mandatory: Trick - Banshee: Write about someone who constantly complains or nags**

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 **I did that. I wrote the thing. Woot woot.**

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 **I also have a lot of random prompts from Hogwarts, where I'm a Slytherin (hiss hiss), and those will be listed after the fic.**

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 **Summary: Draco's childhood, enchanted mirror has been taken from him; he isn't sure if he can stomach it's replacement.**

 **Warnings: Sass. That's it, I think.**

 **Word Count (excluding A/N): 1534**

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 **A Nettlesome Situation**

Draco stormed into the sitting room, still wearing his dress shoes. After his first two years at Hogwarts, Draco would immediately change into silk pajamas and warm slippers as soon as he got home, but something had distracted him this year.

"What happened to my mirror?" Draco asked, his eyes shifting accusingly from his father and mother. "I want Calissa back."

Narcissa frowned softly, looking at her son over her book. "Calissa?" she questioned softly, a delicate eyebrow raised. Draco just scoffed, ignoring how his father rolled his eyes and returned to reading the Daily Prophet.

"Yes. Calissa. I named her when I was five. Surely you remember mother—you were the one who charmed her just for me."

"I took her to my mother's," Lucius cut in, his voice sounding rather bored as his eyes lazily flicked over a story about hair-care potions. Draco whirled around to look at him, exhausted from the trying year at Hogwarts and wishing he was getting comfortable while being complimented by Calissa—oh how he missed her.

"You monster! Bring her back." The demand came with a growl; Draco tried to ignore how his voice cracked slightly on the 'i' in 'bring.'

Lucius finally put his paper down and pressed his hands to his lips with steepled fingers. "Take her away from my mother?" Lucius paused to repress a shudder, his eyes closing for a brief moment. "Draco, come now, surely you can handle this new mirror. If not, we will buy you a new one."

"But I want Calissa," Draco whined, stomping his foot, reverting to his childish ways in hopes of getting his parents to listen to him. It didn't work. Lucius just chuckled and returned to his paper, and Narcissa took slowly turned her page. Both parents were ignoring him in favor of reading.

He huffed a final time and stomped out of the sitting room, running quickly upstairs—he just wanted to relax and be loved by his childhood mirror.

Sighing dramatically, he pushed himself into his room and flopped face first onto his bed, not caring that he was probably wrinkling his clothes.

"Back for more, Princess?" a nasally voice called, interrupting Draco's tantrum. "Honestly, I only told you to wear navy blue instead of black. It would go better with your sparkling eyes."

Draco raised his head to glare at the mirror. It was a relatively simple thing, hanging on the door to his bathroom, that was created in silver—it was saying relatively nice things, minus the Princess nickname, but Draco didn't trust it.

He wasn't sure he trusted anything anymore.

…

"I don't find you very interesting," the mirror said, it's high, female voice ringing out into what had recently been a silent night. The voice almost reminded Draco of Pansy; however, somehow, it was more annoying.

Draco rolled onto his side, clutching his favorite blanket to his chest—it was made of a forest green material, his favorite color apart from black, and was the softest thing he had ever felt—trying to ignore the mirror. Every night for the last week, it had woken him up at some obscure hour to complain about something.

"I had the most terrible vision," the mirror continued, sighing a huge sigh after speaking, as if it were waiting for a response.

"That's splendid!" Draco replied sarcastically. He rolled over again and put his pillow over his head, attempting to drown out whatever the mirror said next.

He couldn't understand why his father couldn't get him Calissa back; sure, Grandmother Malfoy was terrifying, but Lucius was her son! He could find a way!

"In this vision, I had to stay in this room of this ungrateful little Princess! He only wears black, and it's sad. Oh how pretty he would look in pink—or, at least, blue. Maybe pastels. But no… he only likes black," the mirror lamented.

In that moment, Draco decided to call the mirror Nettle—it was irksome, obnoxious, vexing… nettlesome. Hence, Nettle.

"Shut up, will you?" Draco said. He sat up in his bed, his silver eyes bright with annoyance, his hair sticking up at all angles. "You are driving me mad! Absolutely batty!"

The mirror tutted. "We're all mad here," Nettle said. Draco could practically hear the grin in its voice, and he relaxed back down into the bed, still clutching his blanket.

"Goodnight, Nettle," Draco called, finality in his voice. He really wanted to sleep.

…

It had been officially two weeks of living with Nettle, and Draco was starting to get used to the insipid nagging. Nettle's favorite comeback has been: "One of us is right. The other is you."

He hears it at least once a day. At least.

"You should try wearing dark purple," Nettle said as Draco began dressing in his usual, slightly-formal wear—black trousers, black button-up, and a black robe over top. Of course, he was wearing black dress shoes as well.

"I prefer black," Draco said. He really did prefer it; the harshness made his pale skin and hair stand out more. "Besides, I really don't think dark purple suits me. Maybe—maybe—magenta, but not dark purple."

Nettle sighed. "One of us is right. The other is you."

Draco rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair before leaning over to grab his kit of hair-care potions.

Nettle sighed again. "You're going to ruin your beautiful hair with that trash," the mirror said with a huff. Draco rolled his eyes again.

"Stop telling me what you think you know. This is the top of the line in hair styling; it can only help my hair, not harm it."

"One of us is right, the other is you."

Draco rolled his eyes for the third time that morning, and glared at the mirror before starting to do his hair. Nettle complained about it every step of the way, telling him he should flip some strands towards the other side of his head, and that he was using too much in some places and too little in others. The constant nagging gave him a headache.

He was getting better at tuning her out, though, and managed to get through his morning preparations without properly blowing a fuse.

…

"I found you a replacement mirror," Lucius said over breakfast roughly one week later—almost a month of living with Nettle, and Draco had been non-stop begging his father for a different mirror, if he couldn't get Calissa back.

It looked as if his begging had finally paid off.

"About time," Draco breathed, crossing his fork and his knife over the small remains of food on his plate. When he stood up, he made eye contact with his father. "Thank you. I'm not sure I could last the rest of the summer with that constant nagging."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "You would be surprised how long one could last with a constant presence nagging at you, son. Nevertheless, I already paid for the replacement, and it should be complete by the time you reach your room," he said, his tone full of amusement.

Draco could hardly wait. After barely taking the time to thank his parents for breakfast, he practically ran up the stairs, excited to meet his new mirror. It wouldn't be Calissa, but it also wouldn't be Nettle; he would take what he could get.

The new mirror was roughly the same size, but lined in black instead of silver. For some reason, that small detail bothered him, but he didn't say anything.

"Your hair is styled so perfectly, my dear," the mirror said in a loving, grandmotherly way. It had a voice as smooth as honey, Draco could probably fall asleep listening to it.

"Thanks," he said with a grin, ignoring the slight twinge in his heart—he was feeling something like guilt, and he didn't know why.

…

"Father," Draco said, standing at the edge of his father's study, his arms crossed over his stomach. He looked embarrassed, almost like a little child. "Where did Nettle go?"

Lucius looked up from his paperwork, his long hair tucked into a low bun. "The mirror that you disliked so much?" he questioned, an eyebrow raised and a slight smirk on his lips. "I put Nettle in one of the guest rooms in the East wing."

Draco nodded, glancing at the floor before looking back up at Lucius. "Can I… have her back?"

"You've only had the new one for a few days—has it not been treating you well?" Lucius asked, steepling his fingers. Draco wished he could do that and look half as professional as his father.

"Too well," Draco replied quietly. "I know it sounds foolish, but I miss the repartee between Nettle and I."

Lucius nodded, and Draco could tell he was hiding a smile. "I thought as much."

Draco raised an eyebrow, releasing his stomach from his arms' death grip, and slipping his hands in his pockets—had his father been messing with him? Draco wouldn't put it past him. "What do you mean?" he asked carefully.

"Sometimes, the best people for you are the ones you have to work harder to get close to," Lucius said, finally letting his smile show. "You would do well to remember that."

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 **A/N 2.0: Prompts**

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 **Autumn Seasonal:**

 **\- Day: October 6 - (dialogue) "We're all mad here."**

 **\- Autumn Prompt: (dialogue) "You monster!"**

 **\- Color: Forest Green**

 **\- Ravenclaw Prompt: (color) Navy blue**

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 **Gris-Gris Bag: (dialogue) "One of us is right. The other is you."**

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 **Writing Club:**

 **\- Character Appreciation #18: (setting) Malfoy Manor**

 **\- Disney Challenge Dialogue #1: "I had the most terrible vision." / "That's splendid!"**

 **\- Sophie's Shelf #9: (dialogue) "I don't find you very interesting**


End file.
